My Morning...

I woke up this morning to an awake Silas, babbling to himself in his crib. After getting him up, changing him from his somehow all wet pajamas, and feeding him, I brought him back into bed with me (and Dusty). Even though I was wishing he would fall back asleep, I couldn't help but smile at his chatter and think about what today would've been like without him here...

Before Silas:
Today I would've gotten out of bed EARLY, probably around 4:00am, after not sleeping very well the entire night because my mind would've been racing about everything I needed to do for the FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL! I would've gotten to school as soon as the doors were unlocked after first stopping at Walmart or the grocery store because I remembered something that I wanted to have on the first day.

I'd get to my classroom and try to finish getting everything ready for THE DAY that would set the tone and attitude for my students for the rest of the year. As a teacher, you pretty much get ONE SHOT at winning the kids over and that's the first day (but a teacher has to have a "first day" several times throughout the year when new students show up, so the tone and attitude have to stick).

Between 8:00 and 8:15 I'd look at my room and think, "It's as good as it's gonna get" and head outside with the other teachers to start greeting the students and help them find their classroom line where they will line up every morning for the rest of their year with us. This is the time I am EXTRA "happy" as I'll excitedly greet students from the year before, chat with my new students and sing a silly song or jump up and down in the cooler weather, or do anything I could to stick out as a "different" teacher. SMILE SMILE SMILE. My face would hurt by the end of the day because my students needed to know that this was going to be a great year. Their new classroom was going to be one full of positive energy, excitement, and celebrating the simple things. Their teacher was a little "out there" but there was something about her that made them want to come back the next day. I needed to make enough of an impression that they'd go home and have something to share with their parent(s) - even if it was that their teacher was weird, but in a good way.

I'd be lucky to make it to the bathroom on this day. I'd be running around like a chicken with its head cut off - with a smile of course - trying to squeeze all the necessary things into the short day we had together. By the time I'd say goodbye to the children, I'd be exhausted. But, my afternoon was just beginning. There'd be so many more things that I'd need to prepare for the following days. For the first month of school my hours would be from dark until dark. My husband would look at me like I was crazy for spending so much time at school. But it takes a teacher to understand. The second month my hours would be from slightly dark to slightly dark, and as the months continued, I'd be on a better schedule, but NEVER an "8 hour day." The work is never done. You're never completely prepared. There's always more you can do.

Instead, today, I'm drinking a cup of coffee at the time I'd be meeting my students outside. I'm playing with my son on the floor as he crawls around and discovers new things. I'm writing this blog. I'm incredibly happy.

Teaching elementary. A job that consumes your life like a crazy whirlwind from the first day to the last day. A job that only other teachers will truly understand.

Love up on your children's teachers. Because teachers are ALWAYS thinking about what they can do better to help your children succeed.

How to pick fruits and veggies in your garden among mosquitoes...

You KNOW you need to pick the ripe fruits and veggies from your garden before they go bad. You KNOW the mosquitoes have been awful. You KNOW the last several days have been very hot and HOPE the heat killed a good number of them or at least convinced the beasts to lay low and stay cool. You KNOW your hope of them being killed is unrealistic, so you plan for protection.

1) Put on long pants, socks, shoes, and a hooded sweatshirt that you tie tightly around your face to limit the available skin. Try this before using mosquito spray because you really don't want to have to shower after picking in your garden.

Get into the garden using this strategy, pick 4 snap peas, and run to the garage for the bug spray.

2) While still wearing the above mentioned, spray yourself with bug spray. Spray a second time just to be sure. Head back to the garden where your bucket awaits with 4 snap peas.

Pick the rest of the snap peas and beans while swatting the creeps away that are buzzing in your face and biting through your clothes, and probably biting the tiny opening under your chin where the sweatshirt tie can't close. Head over to the blueberries. Be excited for a split second that there are so many to pick. Then look at your leg and see multiple mosquitoes biting you. Flail your arms around, drop some of your blueberries, be determined to find those dropped blueberries, put them in your bucket and run back to the house.

3) Get "sworn by" fabric sheets and rub them all over your head, face, and body. Stick a sheet under your hood, over your forehead, to deter the insects from Hell. Stick some fabric sheets in your pockets. Feel confident that they'll be more likely to leave you alone. Head back to the garden.

Pick the rest of your blueberries as you are shocked that the mosquitoes are STILL adamant about biting you, flying INTO your face, and some under the fabric sheet that is covering your forehead. Move one of the fabric sheets in your pocket to between your butt and feet as you're kneeling down and hope this will stop them from biting your butt- which it doesn't. Think about fleeing and leaving the rest to rot. Decide otherwise since you already know you have countless bites and might as well finish the job.

Flail your arms here and there, slap the ones biting your legs occasionally, do a little dance, and keep picking the rest of your raspberries, sun gold tomatoes, and blackcaps. Feel the sweat dripping down your neck and back. Feel the bugs biting you. Feel the prickers from the blackcaps and the thistle trying to get you to drop your handfuls of treasure. Look around once or twice to see if your neighbors are watching you or sneakily taking your picture.

Head back into your home with your bucket of goodies. Feel your forehead start to itch from the fabric sheet. Feel the bites already turning into red bumps on that open spot of your neck. Get inside and take a picture of yourself for the blog you've been inspired to write. Strip off your pants and sweatshirt, upload your picture, and start writing your blog while you feel your face reacting more and more to the fabric sheet's chemicals.

Yep. That's how to pick fruits and veggies in your garden among mosquitoes. Or at least, that's how I do it. I'm open for other suggestions.

When Did I Become Cool?

Well, some of you are already disagreeing with the title of this post thinking, Stephanie, you're so NOT cool. But, I'm starting to think otherwise. Within the last few years of my life, I have discovered that I may have been in the "cool club" and not even known it!

Let's back up to my "uncoolness."
Wait. Let's start with my original "coolness."

Michigan. 2nd Grade. I was "cool." I had friends- good friends. Boys chased me at recess. I held my friends' (who were girls) hands at story time and didn't care when Russell Potter made fun of us. I wrote notes to my bff Courtney Funk and vividly remember the teacher telling me to change the "c" in her last name to an "n" one time and I had no idea what I had really spelled. I had sleep overs. I was "in shape" or at least not overweight at that time. I belonged. I had confidence - not really knowing back then, that I had it. I just was. And I was "cool."

Fast forward to after 2nd Grade when our family moved to Wisconsin and I started attending a private school. I don't even know what happened, but I definitely lost my "coolness." Maybe Wisconsin had different requirements to make it into the "cool club" but regardless, I never made it. I was a full out dork. But I liked myself - or I thought I did- but I ended up turning to food throughout my loneliness- and I didn't even know I was lonely at the time. I got along with everyone - or I thought I did. I remember overhearing a girl in middle school saying to someone else, "Stephanie's actually being nice today" and a part of me died. When was I not nice? No matter what, I DIDN'T make it to anything cool and I surely wasn't confident.

Fast forward to High School. High School was amazing. I went from a class of 9 kids in 8th grade to over 400 students in the 9th grade. I wasn't a sore thumb. I dropped 40+ pounds over that summer before HS started. I was again, nowhere near cool, but I knew everyone- even if they didn't know me.  I remember the first person I heard swearing. Mike Devitt: "What the hell time is it?" (I couldn't believe he cussed out loud, in school!) I remember making an AWESOME map in my history class and forgetting to put my name on it. When my teacher held it up and said there was no name, I said, "Dude. That's mine." REALLY? DUDE? I NEVER said DUDE. BUT it came out. See, NOT COOL. My sister, ever so graciously, let me sit with her and her friends at lunch or study hall, or whenever it was that our times overlapped for the year we were in the same school.

High School church youth group. I felt cool, but looking back, I'm pretty sure I wasn't. I did have confidence and I did have some stellar friends, but I was still, by far, a dork. Although, since I believe that confidence equals coolness, then at this point as I'm writing this, I was cool... but now I'm babbling and getting off track.

My COOLNESS was definitely missing when I went to college. The FIRST DAY of classes, I tripped on the stairs outside the dorm and literally tumbled down the cement steps, with my heavy backpack helping to throw me into a full-out somersault. Humiliating. I didn't pick up on ANY signs that a boy(s) liked me-even when later they tell me they did. I didn't date my entire college life. I didn't even realize that people at my school broke the Code of Conduct until I was into the second half of my senior year - talk about naive. I had a best friend there - Katie - who I actually get to see tomorrow which is thrilling the heck out of me. She helped make me feel normal. She was cool. Cool in her own dorky way (I love you Katie) but in the same way that I was - except she was all "School Spirit" and I was all, "Why do I have to pay a Student Activity Fee every year when I don't go to any of the activities?" Still, I was lacking confidence throughout college.

After college. My own apartment. Getting into the mentality that I was a teacher & learning how to teach. Working part time as a waitress at Chili's. Working part time at a gas station on Saturday mornings. When did I REALLY start to feel "cool?" Well, that's easy. The Dry Bean. A dancing bar/restaurant that was crazy packed with people on Thursday nights. I had friends. We danced. We sang karaoke. Boys bought us drinks. I RADIATED confidence when I was there. I was a regular. I was cool. But I didn't know it at the time.

REALLY fast forward to now. Present life. In my 30's. I wouldn't call myself cool, but I'm starting to wonder if I am...

At school I worked with some wonderful people. Several of which, at one point or another, said that I was "cool." And because of that, they invited me to things and wanted to sit with me. Me? Cool?

Some of my students tried to be like me. Okay, that doesn't count. They didn't know any better and didn't realize that I was really a big dork. But, I do believe it's possible to be a "cool dork."

At my current part time job, people confide in me. I've got the scoop on a lot of things going on. I know how to keep a secret. Maybe that makes me cool. Or maybe just that people trust me makes me cool.

One of my husband's friends who I think is cool (Jordon), always makes me feel good about myself. She seems to be the definition of CONFIDENT. If she's cool and likes me, then maybe that makes me cool.

I've also reached a point in my life where I don't really care what people think about me anymore. I am ME. I think that makes me confident...? Wait. That DOES make me confident. I am confident in who I am.

So, this story was a lot different in my head before I started writing. But my biggest thought is this: When you have confidence in yourself, you are COOL- whether you know it or not. So to those of you who are unsure of yourself, start believing in yourself and your abilities. It will change your life.

Every day, week, month, and year that goes by, I find myself a little more confident in who I am. And at some point in my life, I became cool... and apparently, according to my own thoughts, I'm only going to get cooler.

Happy Sunday!

Free Legos

Free: 3 buckets of Legos...

said a Craigslist Ad that I came across last night. "Text only" it said. So I texted. And who wouldn't? Legos are expensive these days. I received a text back immediately, letting me know that the Legos were, indeed, still available. "Lucky me" I thought. However, a little weary, I texted, "For free, are the Legos in good shape?" The response (typed exactly as it was received): "They are old legos like in 80s and my daughter legos in early 2000." Well, Legos are Legos, right? Their makeup hasn't changed over the years, they all connect the same way, and with how cheap things are made these days, maybe some Legos from the 80's would hold up better. I debated whether or not I should make the 40 minute drive to get them. I figured it would be about 2 gallons of gas... round up to $8.00...  3 buckets of Legos for $8.00? That was still a steal. I decided to take them off her hands.

Fast forward to today. Silas is asleep in his car seat, the sun is shining, and I'm on a beautiful back country road that I've never been on before... and I'm on my way to pick up FREE LEGOS! What a great day. 40 minutes later, I get to the house. I wish I would've taken a picture.

It was a small house. Window a/c unit installed with Duct tape around the edges. Two little cement steps that lead to the front door. Next to these steps were two SMALL dirty buckets. "No" I thought to myself. I went to the house and rang the doorbell. I didn't want to assume these buckets were the ones for me, especially since I was supposed to be getting three, but every inch of my being told me that these were "my" Legos. The only answer from inside was a small barking dog. I waited a little bit longer. Then I figured I'd look in the buckets to see what was inside.

Partially full buckets of random toys is what I found. Some Legos were included, but this was definitely not what I was expecting. "This is crap." I said to myself. I didn't want to take them. "Where's the third bucket?" I thought. Maybe the third bucket held all the "goodies." I called the Craigslist phone number. It wasn't able to receive calls... that must be why the ad said, "text only." So, I texted: "I'm at your house... you said 3 buckets on Craigslist. I see two by the door. Are those the ones?" And I waited. All the while thinking WHAT A WASTE!  I couldn't believe I drove so far for what was by the door steps. I called my sister to complain. Then I got a text back: "There sup be 3. Yes. I had to wrk late. I had my daughter take it outside. She must have mis one. I can drop other one off on Wednesday." Just as I was getting ready to text back, "No thank you. You can find someone else to take all of them" I see something promising.

A young girl comes walking toward the house... I thought perhaps my luck had changed. She went to the house and I rolled down my window to ask about the Legos. "Hi, I am supposed to be picking up three buckets of Legos." "They're right here" she replied, pointing to the buckets by the steps. "Your mom said there are supposed to be three." She paused and said, "I'll go get the other one."  Ha! I thought, she WAS saving the good ones for herself. She must not have wanted to get rid of them. The girl comes out with a REAL Lego bucket - you know, the ones that have a Lego shaped top? I wanted to open it to see if there was anything good inside, but I didn't want to waste any more time. I wasn't sure what to expect anyway. So, I took it, along with the other two buckets and put them in my car. I drove away, quite disappointed by what I had in my car.

40 minutes later, I got home.

Here are the buckets... as you can see, none of them are full, and none are purely Legos.

I took one bucket and dumped it on the counter. After seeing the contents, I realized that these needed a DEEP CLEANING. I filled up the kitchen sink with soapy hot water and then prepared a bucket full of sanitized water - good enough to sanitize my new wine-making supplies, so I figured it was more than enough to sanitize recently washed Legos.

Bucket No.1

As you can see, CRAP. Hair clumps, Duplex Blocks, Legos, Sponge Bob Square Pants characters, Sponge Bob dominoes.

Bucket No.2

As you can see, more CRAP. Old dirty spoon, dried playdoh chunks, wrappers, erasers, beads, Duplex Blocks, and some Legos.

As I went through these first two buckets, I separated the Legos and Duplex Blocks and threw them into the hot soapy water to be washed.

Then I got to the third bucket.

Bucket No. 3

Better. Mostly Legos and Duplex Blocks. But wait. What's that in the lower right corner? Here, I'll zoom in for you and take a picture...

What. Is. That? OMW... IT'S POOP! IT'S A POOPY LEGO CREATION! HOW DO I KNOW IT'S POOP? I SMELLED IT! OMW. OMW. OMW. I got a bucket of Legos and there's a POOPY LEGO CREATION, WITH HAIR, mixed in. I almost vomited. I looked at the rest of the Legos on the counter. I looked at the Legos in my sink. I couldn't do it. I couldn't keep these Legos knowing that any of them could have been exposed to poop. I scooped out the Legos from the sink and picked up the Legos on the counter. They were put back into the buckets and promptly placed IN THE GARBAGE where they belong.

And no, the bucket that the poopy Legos were in was not from the bucket that the girl got from inside.

Free Legos? I don't think I'll EVER try to get my hands on used Legos again. At this point, I'll be spending the extra money buying NEW.  NEW and never exposed to POOP Legos.

OMW. OMW. OMW.

Happy Monday.

The Gift of Giving...

I always thought I was a fairly generous person. I love giving thoughtful gifts to others, tithe 10% of my paychecks to go towards charitable causes (Compassion International, Samaritan's Purse, disaster relief, school families who are in need), Boy/Girl Scouts, etc.

However, while considering myself a generous person, I've also realized that I'm a tightwad... no, cheap... no, a penny-pincher... no, frugal... YES. There have been countless times where I have been stingy with my money and time. I find ways to justify not supporting a friend's Mary Kay Business or Thirty-One Gifts Business; leaving exactly 15% as a tip, not driving out to visit a dear friend who lives more than 30 minutes away, and never loaning money to anyone - friends or family.

I have come to realize that the generosity of others continues to impact me in such a positive way, that it's driving me to be more generous. It started with getting married in 2010. I couldn't believe how generous people were for both my shower and wedding. I was shocked at how many people who couldn't make the wedding still sent me a gift (I didn't know that was done). After going to umpteen weddings this summer/fall, I've just reminded myself that I still have cards to send out for not only weddings that we couldn't attend, but even a wedding we DID attend! How awful is that?

Then, in 2012 I found out I was pregnant. Once again, the generosity came pouring in. People from work made me or gave me things, family members went well out of their way to provide baby necessities, I was thrown an amazing shower where people truly showered me with gifts. Then, after the birth of my baby, I still received gifts from people- and again, some people who couldn't make my baby shower still sent me a gift and others gave me a gift for the baby shower AND after the birth (I didn't know that was done either)! This all has opened my eyes to how ungenerous I am. I mean, I always have good intentions and THINK about how I can be supportive, but actually doing it is a whole other thing.

That brings me to the BEST example of generosity that I know- and it might shock some of you. But, it's my husband. He leaves good tips - even if the service wasn't the best. He additionally tips the Rookies and Tano's delivery driver even if there's already a delivery fee included. He thinks of thoughtful gifts for special occasions and even for no particular reason (he doesn't run to the store to pick up a gift- he actually thinks about a gift that is fitting and then finds where he can buy it or order it) and tells me that I can take credit for the gift if I want - EVEN THOUGH HE PAID FOR IT! He helps his friends complete labor-intensive jobs that make him sweat buckets. When the weather is bad, he pulls people out of the ditch and drives people to their destinations. He fixes his friends' cars outside of work to help them out. He, too, supports Boy/Girl Scouts. He GIVES AWAY things that he doesn't need anymore (and I'm in the background thinking how he should save it "just in case" or try to sell it for some money). He puts his money down on some things trusting that others will pay him back. He doesn't hold a grudge if they don't pay him back- he figures they'll pay him eventually. He occasionally brings me some Crossword Scratch Off Lottery tickets, just because he knows I enjoy them once in a while. The list could easily go on...

So, even though it's way past the time to make New Year's Resolutions, I have mine. It's to be more generous. More generous in the quiet ways. I want to go out of my way for others. Already I've started tipping more (and it sure feels good to walk out of an establishment after leaving a good tip), truly listening to others and finding ways I can help/support them when they don't suspect it, and giving things away if I know someone else could use it.

Being generous isn't just giving money to good causes, but it's giving time and consideration to others. And that's the kind of person I want to be.

But don't get me started on The Giving Tree. That's a whole different view of giving and I greatly dislike it.